


Incapacitated by Love

by musiclovingbitch



Category: Glee
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-06
Updated: 2018-04-06
Packaged: 2019-04-19 06:54:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,632
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14231730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/musiclovingbitch/pseuds/musiclovingbitch
Summary: AU. Police Officer!Blaine“I’m your ex, you are a cop, and I just got arrested for being drunk and disorderly”





	Incapacitated by Love

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so I wrote half of this fic before realizing that public inebriation is not actually a crime in New York anymore. But, like. I'd already written half of it, so. Fuck it.

Kurt stumbled over his own feet. “God, I’m so drunk. So stupid.” he mumbled to himself. He cut himself some slack though. It wasn’t like he did this regularly, and he had a genuine reason.

Today was exactly six months since their break up. And it just so happened to fall on a Saturday, so he couldn’t distract himself with work. All he could do was sit on the couch and remember. After watching Moulin Rouge for the second time and crying through most of it, he’d decided to get hammered. He wanted to forget, but the thing that no one tells you is that when you drink to forget, the only thing that happens is you get reminded of the thing you wanted to forget all the more.

_“That’s my job, Kurt! I can’t just quit and find something else to do just because you’re scared!” Blaine had said on that damned evening._

_“But it’s so dangerous, Blaine! Everytime you walk out the door I’m terrified you’ll never walk back in again!” Kurt had responded._

_“I told you on our first date, I asked you specifically if my job was going to be a problem for you, and you said it wouldn’t be!” Blaine had accused, pointing a finger at him._

_“That was before I fell in love with you, okay?” Kurt had shouted at him._

_“Kurt, I love you too, and I understand what you’re feeling, truly, I do, but you can’t just expect me to change my life around.” Blaine had said dejectedly._

_There had been a couple minutes’ worth of silence, spent staring at each other. Kurt had wrapped his arms around himself. “I don’t know what to do.” he’d whispered._

_He’d seen Blaine tense and take a deep breath. He could never have expected the thing that would come out of Blaine’s mouth. “I think we should take a break.”_

He didn’t realize he was crying until he licked his lips and the taste of salt filled his mouth. A car horn made him look up. Everything was spinning. He closed his eyes tightly and tried not to fall over.

“So, so stupid.” he thought aloud. He was really sad. He wanted Blaine. But he couldn’t have him. So he called Rachel instead. He wasn’t really sure how he managed to do that, but he wasn’t gonna complain.

“It’s all my fault! I let him get away, I didn’t even fight for us! And for what? My own insecurities? My stupid stupid stubbornness?” he said when she answered, in lieu of a ‘hello’.

There was a small silence before she spoke up. “Oh, Kurt. Are you drunk?”

“No. Yes. I don’t know. Probably. Everything is spinning. My heart hurts. And there’s this thing in my throat that makes it hard to breathe. I don’t like this, Rachel.” he said, his voice growing gradually more strangled as he finished his tirade.

“Do you want me to call Santana and get her to come over? You two can watch whatever you want until you fall asleep?” she suggested.

“No! The last thing I want to do is wanna fall asleep.”

“Indoor voice, Kurt.” she chided him, but he didn’t listen.

“Every time I sleep, hell, every time I close my eyes I see him. His stupid face, and his stupid expressive eyes, with his stupid triangle of an eyebrow, and his stupid, plump lips that take my breath away, and his stupid stupid smooth skin.” he voice kept getting louder and louder as he went on, but he didn’t notice or care.

“Okay, that’s it, I’m calling Santana, I’m sending her over.” Rachel says.

“Wait, wait, I’m not. I’m not in the apartment Rachel.” he says.

“What? Kurt, you’re drunk, alone, in public? That’s incredibly dangerous, what were you thinking?”

“I was trying to stop thinking, thank you very much.”

He hears her sigh. “Kurt, you’re yelling again. And, okay. Where are you? I’ll have Santana come get you and you’ll go back to your apartment together, okay?” she proposes.

“That does sound nice. It’s getting colder and I’m not dressed for it.”

“Kurt, where are you?”

“Uh…” he looks around, then staggers to the left, leaning on a random wall. “Wow, I’m really...drunk. Dizzy. Rachel, make the world stop spinning.”

“Just close your eyes and focus on your breathing, okay?” Rachel says soothingly.

“I don’t want to close my eyes. I don’t want to see his stupid face. His stupid, stupidly handsome face.” Just like that, Kurt finds himself tearing up. But he doesn’t let himself cry. He has other, more pressing problems.

“Uh, Rachel, I kinda...don’t know where I am.” he says sheepishly. He thinks, if he were sober, this would upset him more.

“God, Kurt. Okay, okay. Is there anyone around you can ask?”

“Uhhh...oh, yeah!” he exclaims. He walks over to the woman with the stroller.

“Um, excuse me, ma’am. Ma’am? Yes, hello. I was wondering, would you please tell me which street this is?” he asks her.

He ignores him, and picks up her pace. Kurt doesn’t think it’s a good idea to run, especially considering how upset his stomach is. He yells after the woman instead. “Please? I just wanna go home!”

He gets no response and sighs, walking over to a pole and grabbing hold of it to stable himself. He lifts the phone to his ear again.

“She wouldn’t tell me, Rachel. I thought moms were supposed to be kind to strangers. She even had her baby with her!”

“You approached a woman with a baby, drunk, at almost midnight, Kurt. What did you think was going to happen?”

“Hey, you were the one that suggested it!”

“You should have chosen someone else!”

“Well, I like babies okay? They’re cute! Is that a crime?”

“No, but being drunk in public is.” he hears a voice from behind him and freezes.

He turns around slowly and finds a police officer looking at him.

“Crap.”

He jumps back, startled, then proceeds to fall flat on his back.

“Are you alright?” the police officer asked.

“Yes, I’m fine, thank you.” Kurt said, having picked himself off the ground.

“I’m going to need you to follow me to the station.”

“What? No! I mean, I’m just trying to find where I am, so my friend can pick me up.”

The officer points behind him. To a street name sign.

“Oh. Well, thank you.”

“Sir, I’m going to need you to blow into this.” the officer said and placed a breathalyzer in front of his face. Kurt did, a sinking feeling in his gut. The police officer glanced at it and made a facial expression Kurt couldn’t discern.

“Sir, you’re going to need to come with us back to the station.”

“Oh.”

Kurt hung up the phone and put it in his pocket. The officer drew her gun out.

“Pull your hand out of your pocket, slowly.” when Kurt just looked at her dumbfounded, she added “Now.”

“I-I was just putting my phone back, I swear!”

Kurt slowly took his hand out of his pocket and raised it, palm open. The officer relaxed, took a pair of handcuffs from her belt.

“Now, since you’re being cooperative, I’m going to cuff your hands in front of you. Don’t make me regret that decision.”

“Okay.” Kurt said, resigned. This day was getting worse by the second. “Thank you.” he added.

The officer lead him to the car, where another police officer was waiting with her arms crossed. Midway through the ride to the station, a thought popped into Kurt’s mind. He gasped and moved forward. The police officer turned her head to him.

“What--what precinct are you?” his voice wavered, he couldn’t help it. _Please don’t be 5th, please don’t be 5th, please don’t be 5th._

“Fifth.” the officer responded. His thoughts must have shown on his face, cause she frowned intently. “Do you have something against our precinct?” she asked, her tone a bit defensive.

Kurt shook his head, then stopped because it made his headache worse. “N-No. No, um. No. I’m sorry.” he said and resolutely stared at his hands until the drive was over. He felt like he was going to puke, but the alcohol in his system had little to do with it.

They took his handcuffs off, patted him down, and took his wallet and phone with them before they lead him to the holding cell. Kurt sat in a corner and tried to hide his face, less he be recognized. Deep inside, he knew it was inevitable, but he wanted to prolong it as much as humanly possible.

The cell door opened, but he didn’t turn to see who it was.

“Mr. Hummel.”

He flinched. His blood run cold. All this time, he’d been thinking about how humiliating it would be for one of Blaine’s friends to be here and recognize him. The thought that Blaine himself might be there had not even registered as a possibility to him. But apparently, the universe hates him this much.

“Kurt.”

Kurt took as big a breath as he could, gathered up all his might and stood up. He didn’t look at him, couldn’t look at him. The floor was way too interesting for him to be able to tear his eyes away from it. All the times he’d been here, he’d never noticed the pattern.

He followed Blaine to his desk and sat down. He refused to look at him still, and inspected his fingernails. Finally, after a solid minute of the feeling of Blaine’s eyes boring into his profile, Blaine spoke.

“I filled out your forms, you won’t have to do anything but sign them. Since this is your first arrest, and the crime you commited was minor, and also because you were cooperative, you’ll only have to pay a fine.”

Kurt nodded but didn’t speak. Blaine stared at him some more, then continued.

“You can call someone to bail you out now.” he said, then pushed the phone on his desk towards Kurt.

Kurt nodded once more, then called Rachel.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Rachel, it’s Kurt.” he said, and surprised himself at how quiet his voice came out. He cleared his throat and spoke a little louder. “I need you to come bail me out.”

“Oh my god, I’m so glad you’re okay! I heard the whole thing over the phone, well, before you hung up, and I was so worried, oh my god.”

“I’m fine, I’m fine, don’t worry. Can you please just, come get me?”

“Um...Kurt, Jessie’s still in rehearsal...I can’t leave Fiona alone.”

“Oh! Oh, yes, I...I forgot, I’m sorry. It’s okay, I’ll figure something out.”

“Should I call Santana?”

“No, I’ll do it, she’d kill you for waking her up.”

“Kurt--”

“Goodnight, Rachel.” he said, then hung up. He stared at the phone for a bit, the said

“Uh, I’m sorry, could I please make another phone call?”

“Why?”

“Um, Rach--uh, Rachel had her baby, and Jessie’s not home yet so she can’t come.”

Silence again. “I’ll take you home.”

“No, no, that’s not necessary.” Kurt said, shaking his head.

“ I insist.”

“I…” Kurt wrecked his mind trying to find an excuse. “You have work.”

“If you’d bothered to take one look at me, you’d see I’m in my civilian clothes. My shift ended fifteen minutes ago.”

“So why are you still here, then?”

“You know exactly why I’m still here. Let me take you home.”

“Santana can do i--”

“Santana will hold this over you for years. I daresay this isn’t something you’ll want to be brought up over and over again.”

Kurt weighed over the pros and cons in his head. There really was one option, but he wasn’t sure his heart would take it.

“Kurt, come on. Is the thought of spending half an hour in a car with me really that repulsing to you?”

Kurt huffed. Of course it wasn’t, that was the whole point, you stupid, stupidly attractive moron. “Okay, fine.”

“Wait here.” Blaine said and left. Kurt picked up the paperwork, skimmed it, and signed it. Blaine came back five minutes later with Kurt’s stuff in hand.

“Thank you.” Kurt whispered.

“Come on.” Blaine said, and Kurt stood up and followed him. They walked to Blaine’s car, parked a little ways away from the precinct’s entrance. They both buckled in, and Blaine started the car. “Same place?”

“Yeah.” Kurt said, looking out the window.

There were a few seconds of silence before Blaine spoke up.

“God, Kurt, what were you thinking? Do you have any idea how dangerous it is to be out in New York, at night, alone, and incapacitated? Anything could have happened to you!”

Kurt looked over despite himself. He looked at Blaine’s hands, the way they were clenched around the steering wheel. He looked at his hands and not at Blaine’s face, not his face, never his face, he couldn’t. He turned to look out the window again.

“I doubt I was drunk enough for the word ‘incapacitated’ to apply to me.”

“You nearly harassed a mother and her baby! At the very least, your judgement was impaired.”

Kurt couldn’t really disagree with that. He said nothing, blindly reaching over and turning the radio on.

That proved not to be the best of ideas, as every song brought with it a different memory from the three years he’d spent with Blaine. A Saturday morning making breakfast together, a Friday night where Blaine had spontaneously pulled him up and started dancing with him in the middle of dinner, a Tuesday morning where he had surprised Blaine with a coffee on his desk, numerous car rides where he and Blaine sang songs to one another and with one another.

For the second time in one night, Kurt found himself crying. He cried as silently as he could, but he was pretty sure Blaine had him all figured out. Finally, Blaine pulled up in front of his apartment building. Kurt unbuckled himself and went to open the door, but Blaine’s hand grabbed his wrist before he could leave.

“Kurt, Kurt wait, just…” he held onto Kurt’s wrist until he sat back down. “Will you please look at me?”

Kurt turned his head towards him, and if Blaine hadn’t figured out he was crying he sure knew now, but he didn’t look up. Blaine released his grip on Kurt’s wrist. A minute of tense silence passed, Blaine staring at Kurt, Kurt staring at anything but Blaine.

“I can’t.” barely a whisper, it was all he could muster up.

Blaine reached out his hand. Kurt was sure he was going to lift his chin up, force him to meet his eyes, but he didn’t, simply used his fingers to stroke back a few pieces of hair that had fallen on Kurt’s forehead, and wow, why did that hurt so much more.

Kurt let out a pained whimper and Blaine’s hand disappeared. Kurt sniffled, opened the door, and left.

He woke up the next day to his phone ringing.

“ ‘llo?”

“Kurt, oh my god, where are you, are you okay?”

“Yeah? I’m at home, in my bed.”

“I called Santana this morning to get an update on how you’re doing, and she had no idea what I was talking about.”

Kurt groaned. “You told Santana?”

“Kurt, what happened last night? Who bailed you out, how did you get home?”

“Um...Well. Blaine.”

“Oh. Oh no, he was there? Oh, I’m so sorry, Kurt.”

“It’s--it’s quite alright. I think. I’m not really sure I’ve fully accepted that last night actually happened yet.”

“Well, alright. I’ll leave you to it then. Call me if you need anything?”

“Of course. Thanks for everything, Rachel.”

“Love you.”

“Love you too.” he said, and then hung up.

He tried going back to sleep, but the events of last night filled his mind, and that wasn’t an option anymore. One little detail, which hadn’t even crossed his mind yesterday, popped into his head, and he got out of bed with a gasp.

He dressed quickly, but meticulously. Then he went to the nearest ATM, withdrew the maximum amount of money he could, and headed for the subway.

Standing in front of Blaine’s apartment building’s door for the first time in six months was strange. He really, really hoped Blaine was at work.

Reluctantly, he used his keys to enter. He went up the stairs--six months later, the elevator was still broken--to apartment 6B. He took a steadying breath and went in.

Blaine’s scent hit him head on and he felt a prickling in his eyes. It was quiet. Blaine must be at work. Kurt felt relief wash over him. He stepped fully into the apartment and closed the door behind him.

He thought about just putting the money on the coffee table and leaving, but that would be too weird, and Blaine would probably be seriously confused. He headed to the kitchen and grabbed a pen and a post-it note.

He went back to the living room and sat on the couch. He placed the money on the coffee table and picked up the pen.

_Blaine,_

_Thanks for everything. I think that’s the correct amount from what I remember of the paperwork. Let me know if it isn’t. I’m gonna leave the key under the doormat once I lock the door._

He dithered over whether or not to write the next bit, but he couldn’t not.

_Love, Kurt._

He placed the pen on the post-it and sat back on the couch, willing the tears away. He looked around the room, taking everything in. He let his fingers wander over the litany of shirts on the couch. He bit his lip, and slowly brought one up to his face, breathing in deeply. He couldn’t hold back the tears this time.

“Kurt?” came Blaine’s voice from behind him.

Kurt scrambled to wipe his tears away, and let the shirt slip from his fingers.

“Um…” Kurt trailed off and cleared his throat.

“What… what are you doing here?”

“I… I, uh.”

Blaine comes closer, and sees the money and the note. His face hardens.

“I just, um. Needed to pay you back. I’m sorry, I thought you were at work. I’ll leave now.” he says and stands up, facing resolutely away from Blaine.

“Really, Kurt? Really?” he sounds betrayed. Kurt winces. “I don’t need your money.”

“Blaine, just. I know you don’t need it, but it wouldn’t be right, okay?”

Blaine didn’t respond, and Kurt really didn’t have anything else to say, so they stayed in silence. Blaine watching Kurt, Kurt watching the door.

“Why won’t you look at me?”

He sounded hurt, and fresh tears came to Kurt’s eyes. The question made him want to turn and face him, but he knew that one glance at the hurt expression Blaine was no doubt sporting right now would be the end of him.

“I--Blaine, I can’t.”

He moved towards the door. Blaine didn’t stop him. More tears came. He stopped with his hand on the door handle. Gulping, he took Blaine’s keys out of his pocket and slowly laid them on the little table next to the door. His breathing was ragged, but he didn’t know how to control it.

He opened the door and left.

He rushed down the stairs and out of the building, and took a moment to calm himself before heading back home. He just wanted to get into bed and pretend the rest of the world doesn’t exist.

His dream was short lived when a mere half an hour after he’d stripped off all his clothes and gotten in bed, he heard the loft door open quite violently. He jumped off the bed in alarm and drew back the partition curtain.

“ ‘Love’?” Blaine yelled. The post-it note was in his hand. “Really? ‘Love’? You can’t even look at me yet you have no problem writing ‘love’? No, Kurt, you do not get to do that to me.”

Blaine’s whole face was red, and there were tear tracks on his cheeks. But, god, he hadn’t changed at all. He was every bit as breathtaking as he was when Kurt saw him for the first time.

“You were the one that broke up with me!” Kurt defended himself, once the shock had worn off.

“No, I said we should take a break, you were the one that didn’t answer any of my calls!”

“I needed space too, you know. You weren’t the only one that needed to cool off. You called me three times in one day, and then never called again, don’t make this sound like you’ve been calling me every day and I’ve just been ignoring you!”

They stood there, both breathing heavily and staring at each other.

“Well, why didn’t _you_ call _me_?” Blaine said after a while, his tone much quieter.

“How was I supposed to know you still wanted me?”

Blaine was quiet for a moment. “If you think that there will ever be a moment when I won’t want you, then you really don’t know me as well as I thought you did.”

Kurt really didn’t know what to say to that. So he said nothing. Instead, he reached forward, grabbed Blaine by the collar, and tugged.

Their kiss was as amazing as ever. Blaine’s arms wrapped around his waist, and Kurt smoothed his hands over Blaine’s shoulders. He really couldn’t help the tears that came.

Blaine pulled out of the kiss, and Kurt pushed his face against his neck, repeating like a mantra “I love you, I love you, I love you” against Blaine’s skin.

Blaine tightened his grip on Kurt’s waist. He leaned his head on Kurt’s.

“I love you, too.”

**Author's Note:**

> Also available on Tumblr at http://musiclovingbitch.tumblr.com/post/172659383955/incapacitated-by-love, for anyone interested.


End file.
